Scarface
by irnbru32
Summary: After a Brutal Attack Santana is left with severe facial and body scarring. Feeling like an outsider is a feeling Santana never wanted to feel but after moving to Lima with her Mother she starts to feel like she belongs again thanks to a group of singing misfits but a dark shadow from her past might just come back and change that. Rated M for late chapters
1. Chapter 1

**So I know that I should be working on my other story (ALBHETL) but this idea has been plaguing me for a while and I just had to write just to give my brain peace.**

**I'm not sure how well this story will go down (I've never written in 1****st**** person before) so if you like it tell me and I'll continue writing it but if nobody likes it then I'll just leave it...so please review and tell me and you'll find out what actually happened to Santana as/ if the chapters progress.**

**If you any of you know who Katie Piper, this is where the idea came from. She used to be a model/ presenter but when she broke up with her boyfriend he organised for his friend to throw acid in her face. If you Google her you'll get her story but she's an amazingly brave person who has set up a foundation for burn victims and overcame heaps of shit and came out stronger. **

**Also if any of the medical side of this is wrong I apologise...I will research it a bit more if you want me to continue with it **

**So please try and enjoy xXx**

**Disclaimer:- I don't own anything...just borrowing **

"Santana honey that's the van nearly loaded, the guys are just waiting for your boxes" my mother shouts up the stairs at me.

Moving, I hate moving. We're moving because of me because of the way I look and we are moving to Lima. I looked it up, Lima is a small town in Ohio. It a far cry from the place we stay now, New York but my mother wants to move. She says it's so I can see one of the best specialists there is about my face and the burns and that he stays in Lima so we have to move there, but I think she wants to hide, start a new life where people don't know her, don't know what's she's done.

I let out a sigh and grit my teeth as I try to get the anger that's bubbling in my stomach to calm at my mother's voice. I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes trying to focus on something calm, Sunny beaches, that I will never be able to lay on because my skins to sensitive for the sun or hanging out with friends, that I don't have because they all think I'm some sort of monster who's outside finally matches her inside and nobody wants to be friends with a monster. I open my eyes feeling angrier that before.

I throw the roll of duck tape I was using across the room as hard as I can with a frustrated grunt watching it hit the wall and land on my now empty desk.

"Well that's not going to help close your boxes" My mother smiles at me from my bedroom door and it makes me wished I chucked the tape or something heavier at her instead.

"Whatever" I mumbled as get up and brush past her "I'll be in the car" I can feel my mother's eyes on me as I walk down the hall passed the removal men, who stared at me wide eyed as I walked past.

"Take a picture it'll last longer" I snarl at them which make them snap out of their horrified trance at least they have the decency enough to look guilty as they move quickly up to my old room.

The rage, which was still bubbling in my stomach increases tenfold because of them and I throw open the front door before slamming it closed. My mother's car, which is full of our luggage, is parked out front. I fish my IPod out my pocket and put the headphones in and turn up the music as loud as it would allow as I get in the car. I lean back against the seat and close my eyes and try to block out the world around me. The kids playing in the street, that always stop to stare or try to be funny and say things about my face or playfully scream and run away whenever I walk by. The neighbours on the street that give me sympathetic looks or looks that say I deserve it depending whether their on my mum's side or my dad's. It's easier to pretend that they don't exist or that I don't exist.

It takes another half an hour for everything to get loaded from my room in to the moving van. It's too soon for my liking when my mum slides in to the driver's side of the car. She turns to me and starts speaking but I can't hear her, I don't want to, if I do I'll probably want to punch her. I can barely look at her let alone hold a conversation with her, being in a close proximity with her just makes me want to vomit.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her sigh before starting the car. We start the long journey to the airport and I send a silent pray to god that today passes quickly. Luckily for me I fall asleep and I'm gently woken by my mother when we get there. She gets out the car once she knows I'm awake and starts unloading all our bags.

As I'm about to step out the car to join her, a woman, who had been waiting by the bus shelter comes along and hugs my mother close. I recognise her as one of my mother's friends from her work. I quickly pull my hood over my face so I don't feel as exposed as get out the car. I keep my back to both of them but turn down my IPod enough so I can hear a little bit of their conversation.

"...just feel we had to get a new start and there's a specialist there that can fix her face better"

My grip on my IPod tightens until my knuckles turn white and I can feel myself start to shake with rage. This was all her fault, my face, the moving, the specialists it was all her fault, she did this to my face, that's why we're moving. If she had kept in her pants then I would still be normal, still have friends, still be loved.

I shake my head as I try to stop the tears that had gathered in my eyes, since I know it will only irritate the broken skin. I reach back in to the car and get my bag and pick out the pack of tissues and quickly pat my face dry. The next thing I pull out makes my anger spike again.

I roll the clear plastic mask around in my hands for a few seconds frowning at it before I put it on. This mask is the Bain of my existence but I need it to protect my face since the skin is still so sensitive and it also helps the weakened muscles and bone support my face. Thankfully it's not a full mask so it only covers the damaged side of my face but it's still pretty ugly...just like me.

I turn to see if my mother has finished her conversation with her friend and see her handing the car keys over to the woman before giving her one last hug goodbye. I turn back and make sure I've got all my things from the car before walking around the car and grabbing my suitcase, keeping my head down low so that my mother's friend can't fully see my face and I can't see her reaction.

"Right...well we better be off then don't want to miss our flight" I hear my mother say to her friend as she moves to stand next to me "You've put your mask on?" I hear her ask from her spot next to me as she waves to friend before moving across the crossing towards the entrance of the airport.

"Yeah well my face hurt so I need the support" I say not wanting to let her on to the fact that I was crying and she smiles softly and nods at me but I can see guilt flash in her eyes.

When we get to the door s I halt and feel the familiar panic start to replace the rage in my chest. There were a lot of people in the airport and that meant a lot of judging eyes. *_Shit I can't do this*_ I thought as my mother walked through the door way like there was nothing wrong while I'm stuck behind her having a mini panic attack. She finally stops and turns round and frowns when I'm not there by her side . She looks up and finds me still outside the doors.

"Santana honey don't worry no one's looking at you, you can do this" she tries to give me a supportive smile but I can also see the panic written on her face, panic that I might make a scene and panic that people are going start saying things about me.

I take a deep shaky breath and duck my head as I enter the airport making sure that my hood covered all my head. We head to the queue in silence and don't say a word to each other until we get called forward to the check in desk.

My mother hands over our passports to the pretty attendant behind the desk and she opens my mother passport and compare it to my mother standing in front of her and I freeze when she opens mine.

"I'm sorry mam could you take down your hood for a second" she asks me politely and it takes all my strength and will to raise my shaking hands and pull my hood down, when all I want to do is bolt for the nearest door.

When I raise my head I hear a soft gasp and my heart breaks and I can feel my lip tremble but I will myself not to cry. She mutters a small thanks and gives my passports back to my mother not looking in my direction more than she has to.

When we get to the security gates we wait in line and put our stuff in to those little buckets that take them through the scanner. As I stand behind my mother I feel the panic start again at the thought of the metal detector going off, if that thing goes off then that means I have to get frisked. While normally embarrassing for any normal people it's worse for me because some of the skin on my upper body is scarred as well and still a little painful to touch and I don't want them that up close and personal where they can see every mark and scar on my skin.

I watch my mother go through the metal detector and it didn't go off she moved to the side and started gathering her things. I take a deep breath as the lady guard on the other side motions me through; she obviously hasn't seen my mask yet. I walk through the gate and close my eyes waiting to hear the BEEP BEEP of the machine but luckily it doesn't go off. I heave a sigh of relief and walk towards the bucket with all my stuff on it, even though I can feel the lady guard's eyes on me now that she finally caught sight of my mask.

In the departures lounge I buy a magazine and put in my IPod trying to ignore my mother and the people around us as much as possible. It's too long before our flights call and I take my time to get to the queue, wanting to be the last person to board that way no one can see me. I ignore the look the steward gives me when she looks at my passport and manage to keep my anger at bay at her extra politeness in trying to make up for her mistake.

When I finally get in my seat on the plane, I relax feeling the panic that I felt since I entered the airport wash away from me. I stare out at the tarmac from the window next to me.

"I can't wait to start over...this will be good for us I promise" My mother smiled next to me, I just grunt in response and continue to stare out the window.

"Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking... Please be seated and fasten your seat belts we're just about ready to take off. The Cabin crew will now demonstrate the safety procedures."

I roll my eyes at the captain voice and watch the cabin crew do their stuff before rechecking everyone's seat belts and seating themselves.

The plane starts to move on to the runway and I close my eyes as it slowly starts to pick up speed.

*Lima here I come* I think bitterly to myself as the plane finally gets off the ground before sending the best glare I could manage with my fucked up face at my mother for making me do this.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I thought I would try another few chapter of this story and see how it goes, Brittana will meet so please bear with me I just need to get Santana's back story and stuff sorted first. It will all come to light soon enough if your sill confused with who did what.**

**Disclaimer: - don't own anything... **

I hum softly along with the radio I set up on the desk in my new room, it was one of the first things I done when I had started unpacking everything in my new room. Music calms me, it always has and it's been the one constant thing I could turn to no matter what was happening in my life and it could reflect any mood that I was feeling. I used to love to sing as well and I was actually quite good, my mother used to say than I got that from my dad's side of the family since both my father and grandfather had really good voices and used to sing all the time, which is where I think I picked it up from. My abuelo was so proud of me when I joined the church choir and got a solo in the Christmas service in my first year, since solos were hard to come by and mostly given to the older more experienced choir members.

But now the one thing that I loved most has now become something I rarely do any more since_ it_ happened. Not only does it remind me of him but after what happened to my face it had been harder to do since my lips were burned and I can't open my mouth to much without pain. So hitting long powerful notes like I used to is nearly impossible.

I sigh and shake my head to stop the memories, memories than I want...no need to forget to move on. I look around at my new room and internally groan at the amount of boxes I still have left to unpack.

"Santana dinners ready" My mother shouts up the stairs. I huff as I finish up with my box taking as long as I possibly can. Ever since we arrived in Lima my mother has been upbeat and encouraging, which is not unusual but just strange. It's almost like she's trying to force all her positive energy on to me. I know it won't last, all this positive energy she's trying to surround herself in, it'll die out soon enough when she realises that they won't be able to fix me or get me looking normal which in reality is all she wants. She wants to go back to the start, back to where none of this happened, back to playing happy families or pretending we were a happy family.

After finishing my box I packed everything up and headed down stairs slowly. I wasn't in any sort of mood to be dealing with my mother fake perkiness.

"So how's your new room coming along?" my mother asked as we sat down and started eating...well I picked, I was never really hungry anymore. One of the many doctors that I had been to see had motioned it was probably more mental reasons than physical but then that was contradicted by another doctor. I had been to see so many doctors over a small space of time that I wasn't sure what was true anymore.

I shrug a response to her, not really in the mood to speak least of all to her, but she still sends me that annoying smile that means 'it'll get better' but I'm starting to think the smile is less for me and more for her.

"Well don't worry you'll settle in quickly I'm sure and then we can go and see the specialist and he'll make you better and then when you go to school you'll make lots of new friends" she smiled with a nod.

I felt my mouth drop open as I stared at her in disbelief, shaking my head I push away from the table quickly and head back up to my room slamming my door. I stood in the middle of my room shaking at my mother's words. She was seriously deluded if she thought everything would go back to normal but I know that's all she wants. She just wants everything back to the way it was- having the surgeon husband, the popular head cheerleader daughter, the big house, the money, the everything that she doesn't have now and the thing she can't accept is that everything's changed and it's all her fault.

Heading to the ensuite bathroom, I undressed deciding that a shower was the best way to hide and relax at the same time since my mother probably won't come near my bathroom if I'm showering, not that she's afraid to see her daughter naked, I mean she did give birth to me but it's the scars, the scars that have deformed my body and face. I know for a fact that she can't...won't look at them because then the reality of the situation hits her. I could have hundreds, thousands of operations but I'll still be left with the scars of what he did to me...of what she did to me and it's not only the guilt that will eat it at her but mostly the realisation that I will never be the popular head cheerleader daughter she once had.

Stepping in to the steaming shower I winced as the hot water touched the sensitive skin on my upper chest. Not only do I have to deal with the facial scarring but also on my body. I let the hot water rush over my tense shoulders and neck accepting the sting that comes with it when it covers my face hitting the most recent scarring tissue.

I spend as long as I can in the shower before I feel the water cool. Getting out I carefully towel dry myself being careful not to be too rough on my broken skin. Stepping out of the bathroom I looked in to my room and notices that something was off. It was to quite, someone had turned off my radio that I had left playing on my desk. I cautiously walked further in to my bedroom quickly making my way over to my dresser to get my pyjamas.

Pulling on my PJ's I survey my room to make sure that there was no one there, if there was I'm sure one look at my hideous face and body would get them running. I took another quick glance around to me sure that I was defiantly alone when something in the corner of my room caught my eye.

Again I felt my eyes widen and jaw slacken in disbelief for the second time tonight as I stood staring at my reflection in a huge ass mirror. The pain that stabs at my chest is almost enough to make my legs buckle and I quickly turn away from the mirror in repulsion fighting the wave of nausea that hits me.

I lean against my bed staring at the opposite wall trying to quell my emotions. Who the fuck put a mirror in my room? From the bow sitting on top of it I'm guessing that it's a present...probably from my mother. Anger finally beats out the nausea as I grit my teeth, shaking. Ever since _it_ happened I've refused to look at myself in the mirror or any reflective surfaces and I made a rule to myself that no mirror were to ever enter my room, that way I'll never be able to see how truly monstrous I look.

Pulling the sheet off my bed I chuck it over the mirror hiding my reflection. My mother probably though she was doing me some sort of goodwill service or something or maybe she just forgot completely about the attack and my mangled face and body, only remembering that before the attack I could spend ages looking at myself in the mirror primping, plucking and polishing off my look. A look that I had to keep up as part of the role as head cheerleader. Back then I was the hottest bitch at my school and could get any guy that I wanted despite keeping a deep secret from everyone and nobody messed with me. But now, now all that was long gone and I was all alone.

Shaking myself from the memories I pull the closest box to me closer so I can start emptying it. Most of its contents were books and old cheerleading magazines that had motioned me or my squad in them along with some textbooks. Finally getting to the end of the box I pulled out the last item in there. Turning it over my heart stopped and my stomach dropped, there staring back at me was three sets of eyes. I sat and stared at my unharmed face, gently running my thumb over it. I remember this photo being taken; it was only last year right after my squad had won nationals. The face looking back at me definitely was me but was full of a self assured confidence. My parents looked happy to but I knew it was just an act; they were very good at playing the happily married couple. I turn the picture over unable to look at our perfect smiling faces. This picture was taken just before my dad found out about my mother's indiscretions.

A rage fills me slowly as the event of what happened after that fill my mind. Finally the rage gets too much for me to handle and I chuck the picture frame at the mirror in the corner of my room only feeling slightly satisfied when I hear the mirror crack. I bring my hands up to rub my eyes surprised to find wetness there. I gently try to wipe the tears away, careful not to irritate my skin too much.

I crawl in to the middle of my bed and curl up in to the tightest ball my body would allow and cry myself to sleep only to be plagued with a nightmare I'm all too familiar with.

* * *

(Nightmare)

I'm lying in my bed flat on my back when I feel someone approach me.

"It's disgusting...you're disgusting" a voice I know, a voice that I'm familiar with but can't place shouts from above me.

I try to flinch away from the harsh tone, not knowing what I've done wrong, but can't move. I struggle some more but some invisible force is holding me down not letting move, I'm trapped. A laugh from a person above me confirms my realisation.

"It's disgusting...You're disgusting ...she's disgusting...I've got to fix this...I've got to fix you" the voice says again as I struggle trying to break free from my invisible bonds.

I try to scream and shout for help but my voice is silent. I hear the person laugh again as he approaches me.

"Don't worry Santana...I'll fix you" the figure says as they loom over me and I can see their eyes, deep brown eyes that I know but there empty and emotionless not fill with the love I was used to seeing when they gazed at me.

I watch in horror as they pull out a glass fill to the brim with a clear liquid, the person leans over my bed so they are hovering over me and tips the glass slightly so the liquid fall from the glass before righting the glass level again. The few drops that fell from the glass land on my chest burning straight though to my skin burning me. I try to scream again as pain wrecks my body. The brown eyed figure smiles the rest of his face hidden by the darkness that surrounds us. Without warning the person flicks their wrist throwing the rest of the liquid over me.

The majority of it hits me in the face while the rest covers my upper body. I can feel my skin bubble as I scream from the pain but my screams remain silent. I try to move to, try to shake some of the liquid that's burning though my skin in to my muscles and bones, but the more I seem to move the tighter my bond become.

"It had to be done Santana...I had to fix you Santana...Santana...Santana"

* * *

"Santana!...wake up...it's a dream sweetie, it's just a dream" My mother's voice breaks through mu unconsciousness as she shakes me awake.

"What...where...is he?" I gasp as I sit up looking around the room for the familiar brown eyes but a quick scan of my room I find that the only person in my room who's not supposed to be there is my mother.

"Santana sweetie are you ok?" my mother asks as she hugs me tightly and I wince when touched the scars on chest.

I shrug her off and nodded and rub my hands over my face gently trying to dry the tears that I knew would be there. Feeling wetness there confirmed what I knew as I moved my hands away from my face. My mother moved off my bed so she could turn on my bedside light and she gasped as she stared down at my hands. I follow her line sight and feel myself gasp as well as I look down at my blood stained hands.

* * *

"Well Miss Lopez it's seems you had quite a night" Dr Berry, my specialist said with a kind smile on his face "I wasn't expecting to see you for another few days"

I look at the giant man sitting behind the desk, he had a kind, welcoming face and should've put me at ease but the nightmare from last night was still very fresh in my mind. Santana's mother had panicked when he saw her daughter's bloody face and called the Dr Berry first thing that morning once Santana had cleaned herself up.

"The reason you bled so much was probably because what little skin you have on the damaged side of your face is still quite raw from the attack and the following operations but once we get a skin graft done that should be sorted quite quickly. I would still like to see you at our arranged time on Friday if that's ok? That way we can discuss the best way to proceed" Dr Berry smiled.

"Thank you doctor...I just want my little girl back to normal" my mother smiled at him and patted my hand.

I caught Dr Berry smile falter slightly before he replaced it with a more forced smile and nodded at my mother.

"If its ok with you Mrs Lopez...could I speak to Santana privately" Dr Berry said to my mother not really giving her a chance to decline.

"Of course Doctor...Santana honey, I'll just be outside" My mother said as she got her stuff and left.

"Santana I see from your records that you refused counselling after the attack...can I ask why?" Dr Berry asked and I shrugged.

Dr Berry pursed his lips and nodded at like I had just given him a proper answer. "I know it's hard to talk sometimes because you don't want to re live it and I also know that sometimes if you don't talk about it, it can destroy you from the inside. I know a therapist, good friend of mine, she works here casually from time to time I would like you to go and see here...it'll be considered part of your treatment I'll bring her in on Friday so you can officially meet and set up some sessions"

I sat and glared at the large Man in front of me. Who the fuck did he think he was trying to fix my life without consent.

"So ill tell Susan to drop by on Friday and I will see you and your mother then" Dr Berry smiled and stood and held out his hand for me to shake but I ignored it and stalked out of his office to meet my mother in the reception area.

As if you didn't already know I fucking hate Lima already..

**So there's chapter 2 please read and review and tell me what you thought I'll probably have Brittana meet in the next chapter at some point.**

**I now have twitter irnbru323- I'll be putting progress and updates on my stories on there so please follow me if you're interested **


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